


Finding peace on a bad day

by solrosan



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: 221B Ficlet, F/M, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-17
Updated: 2013-06-17
Packaged: 2017-12-15 06:24:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 442
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/846318
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/solrosan/pseuds/solrosan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Greg has a bad day.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ImpishTubist](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ImpishTubist/gifts).



> I promised Imp a Lestrade-centric 221b with the B word of her choice if she did All The Things. Here is the result.

Greg fumbled with his keys, but managed to get the bloody door open eventually. He was dead tired – it had been a god-awful day – but he still noticed that someone had been in his flat as soon as he turned on the lights; the mail was neatly stacked on the chair next to the door.

Wearily he wondered if he was the victim of the world’s neatest burglar or if one of the Holmes brothers was trying to tell him that he needed to change his lock. He looked around but didn’t notice anything else and decided that he was too tired to bother with this right now.

He took off his jacket, muttering profanities directed at both Sherlock and Mycroft, and walked towards his bedroom. When he reached the sitting-room he stopped dead, because there, on the sofa, was John.

“Someone has taken lessons from Sherlock,” Greg said, completely baffled.

John smirked. “Do you mind?”

“I’m just glad you’re not him.” Greg managed half a smile and shook his head.

John smiled, put away the book he had been reading, and walked over to Greg. He put his arms around Greg’s waist, kissing him gently. Greg hugged John right back, feeling his day vastly improving as John slowly pulled the shirt out of his trousers and whispered: “Welcome home, baby.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wrote a second one since the chosen word ('baby') can have very different meanings.
> 
> They are **in no way** related.

It was years since Greg had held a newborn, but after three children of his own it felt completely natural to hold the little girl in his arms. There was a special peace that came with holding a sleeping infant; it didn’t matter if it was your own or someone else’s. No, scratch that, it was a huge difference between your own child and someone else’s kid, but the peacefulness was very similar, Greg realised.

He had stopped by after work, just wanting to hand over the gift from the gang at the Met and to congratulate in person. Sherlock could say whatever he wanted, sometimes texts just didn’t cut it.

Greg hadn’t expected to be asked if he wanted to hold the girl, but you don’t turn that kind of offer down. Of course he wanted to hold John and Mary’s baby if they trusted him enough to do so. 

John hovered, standing just outside Greg’s personal space, talking about something unimportant without taking his eyes of his daughter. Greg didn’t blame him, he remembered all too well how much it itched to get your child back from whoever held it. He smiled, he wasn’t going to torture John for much longer, he just wanted to cherish this moment of peace a little bit more before giving back the baby.


End file.
